FFS Friday!

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.....

Especially when that woman is an ex-girlfriend that you decide to trust with sharp objects and a stock of nitrous oxide.

See, this guy, Marek Olszewski, from the Polish city of Wroclaw, decided to ask for help from his ex-girlfriend whom he split with days earlier.

Mr. Olszewski had a toothache. His ex-girlfriend was a dentist.

Of course, she offered to help out this great guy who just made her spend the last 2 or 3 days in a dark closet, hugging her knees, listening to Sinead O'Connor, running her local corner store out of Hagen-Dazs, defacing every picture of them as a couple, and basically ugly crying as much as humanly possible.

Mr. Olszewski awoke missing his teeth. EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. ONE.

F.F.S.

The woman in question, Anna Mackowiak, had this to say about it:

"I tried to be professional and detach myself from my emotions," Mackowiak is quoted as saying. "But when I saw him lying there I just thought, 'What a bastard' and decided to take all his teeth out."

...........................................................................................*cough*

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FFS Friday!

As I was wading across my RSS feed this week, I saw this story a few times.....it's.........it's just......here, read it. I'll wait.

Please...by all means, read the full article here. I'll wait. 

*deep breath*

It's actually a pretty horrible story about a friend who has sex with another friend while in this "gravy-wrestling model's" house.

But, she caught 2 of her friends having sex with each other, got pretty upset, shouted at them, only to be hit in the face with the MONKEYWRENCH that was on the floor next to the pair in mid-coitus.

monkeywrench.........on the floor......FFS.

I mean, it's alright if the floor is made of pegboard, and the tool is properly outlined, but I doubt that. 

And the Daily Mail editors deserve a big FFS on this one too. While the title makes you read, the pictures are deceiving. In the picture above you get the model portion of the title, while the "gravy wrestler" portion garners a small paragraph tucked into the middle of the story, accompanied by this picture:

GGGGGAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!! 

FFS, Daily Mail, way to make it seem like gravy wrestling, having monkeywrenches laying around the floor of your house, and getting pummelled by brothers of friends is all in a English week for you fine chaps.

The 3 Things...About Hands

My hands have been KILLING me lately, and it's hard to explain to people, so here are the 3 things about my hands

1. It's difficult to not look like a big wuss.

When my wife hands me a jar, I have to defer to my 10 year old daughter. When I shake someone's hand, I cry like a Belieber meeting their idol for the first time. Because, you know, it's cool to be "the guy that survived a heart attack but don't touch his hand or he'll cry."

"No, I'm really pleased to meet you......really." 

2. I never realized how much opposable thumbs are used in the real world.

My thumbs are actually the crux of my issues, and I'll be Chris Brown's new punching bag if I didn't realize how often the muscles of the thumbs are used. Opening a door? Check. Eating? Check. Blowing up "marital aids"? Double check. But that hurts so good.

3.  Nobody believes the only thing that doesn't make them hurt.

I'm a slacker stay at home dad, so when I tell people that the only thing that I do that doesn't make my hands hurt is play my Xbox, I generally recieve the same kind of look as if I told someone I had proof that Hoffa killed Kennedy on orders from Captain Kirk. It's true, however. I don't know if Microsoft had "ergonomic engineers" look at the controllers, but they work. Sucks for me, but I love me some Xbox even more now....

Somewhere, people refer to these as "hand pillows"